


Across the Gap

by StrangeBrooch



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Kind of a character study, M/M, No actual sex, Opening Up, Time Lord Telepathy, basically they have a nice long conversation and connect, but also not all about romance either, but like as a concept, but not in a sexy way in a fluffy/trusting/psychic way, definitely not just platonic, hope you like mixed metaphors as I try to describe alien senses, so there's definitely mentions of sex, this might be best described as a discussion of different forms of intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26942050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeBrooch/pseuds/StrangeBrooch
Summary: Jamie’s voice was quiet again, but he spoke slowly and made sure the Doctor caught each word. “I don’t think I’d like having one of my senses shut off for so long.”“Well, at least in the Tardis I can—”“Aye, in the Tardis. But if the Tardis is so tricky, and humans aren’t psychic enough to register, isn’t that a little like only opening your eyes when you’re standing in a dark room anyway?”Humans may be social creatures but Time Lords are telepathic ones, and being on the run from his own people has left the Doctor in a rather isolated psychic state. Retiring to the Tardis library after their latest adventure, he inadvertently tells Jamie about his telepathic abilities, and despite his attempts to make light of it, Jamie's curiosity is not so easily satisfied. The Doctor's worried about scaring him off, but Jamie has decided he wants to play a more active role in understanding.
Relationships: Second Doctor & Jamie McCrimmon, Second Doctor/Jamie McCrimmon
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	1. Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a one-shot, with page breaks between what's now Ch 1 & Ch 2, and the page break that still exists in Ch 3, but then I accidentally happened across some particularly fitting chapter titles and since I'm posting it all at once and it's a little long, I thought it might be nice to let anyone reading decide for themselves if they'd rather take it in chapters or not. So now that you know, it's up to you! Hope you enjoy!

“What I still don’t understand is how you knew which part of the building they were holding her in. I mean, I know you worked it out and you weren’t just guessing, but we were together all along, I saw everything you did, and I can’t tell how you knew.”

The Doctor sighed quietly as he led the way through the double oak doors that matched this corner of the library, Jamie following behind, practically on his heels. Of all the things for him to be impressed by, to ask for an explanation of, did it have to be this, when he really hadn’t done anything remarkable at all? He started to wonder just how many times he _had_ done something devilishly clever in front of Jamie and hoped – just a little bit, of course, a perfectly normal amount for a slightly vain man – that he might’ve impressed him, but after the seventh or fifteenth example that rushed to mind, he stopped himself going any further down that path.

“It was nothing, really.” He settled down on an oversized peach colored chaise lounge as Jamie went straight to the fireplace and set about striking up a flame. He didn’t have to do it manually, of course, there was a button tastefully concealed in the carvings of the mantlepiece, or the Doctor could just tell the Tardis to turn it on – she’d probably respond to such a simple request, if he asked nicely – and Jamie knew that, but he liked doing it himself. He knelt on the flagstones by the hearth with his back to the Doctor as he worked, but he didn’t drop the subject.

“Aye but can you not tell me how, anyway? Seems like it’d be useful to know. If I’d just been there on my own, I wouldn’t have been able to figure it out, so—”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Really Jamie, it was nothing clever like that. If anything, I cheated. I peeked, that’s all.”

“Peeked at what?”

“You noticed how all of Delf’s guards were of a different species than him and his other underlings?”

The fire lit, Jamie stood up and nodded, wiping the soot from his hands on a little tartan dish rag that had appeared on a hook next to the mantle when the Doctor silently wished Jamie wouldn’t make a mess.

“They were members of the Strapsket, strong but famously weak-minded creatures that people like Delf tend to hire as thugs and lackeys, to do all their grunt work and other menial tasks.”

“That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. And of course they didn’t evolve to live like that, poor things, they’re meant to be a herd species. Individually, they’re quite susceptible to authority, and very good at following orders, but on their home planet, they developed a sort of hive mind, a group telepathy they rely on to share experiences and avoid predators.”

He rested his elbow on the arm of the chaise lounge and propped his head up on his hand, watching Jamie as he leaned back against the mantle, considering this the way he often did when introduced to a new alien species. The Doctor had noticed that lately Jamie had grown tired of his yellow turtleneck and started favoring a light tan button up, and before they’d headed out this morning he’d shown up to the console room wearing a patterned red kerchief knotted around his neck. He still stuck resolutely to his red and black kilt, of course, and in his dark knee socks and black brogues he cut quite the figure, standing there by the fire not unlike the dashing young hero of some song. The Doctor thought, not for the first time, that it wasn’t really any wonder there were so many old romantic ballads about the Jacobites, not if there were men like Jamie running around the whole time. But of course, he’d been there himself at the end, and yet he hadn’t met anyone else he could truly say was _like_ Jamie. He’d never found anyone like him in the whole of the universe, in fact. _Perhaps all those songs were just written about him,_ the Doctor thought, and it wasn’t half as hard to believe as it ought to be, watching him stand beside the fire, its warm glow catching the line of his cheek, his arm, his hip. _Perhaps every song like that in the whole history of the universe was written about him, and I just haven’t taken him enough places to account for it yet. But if he gives me the chance, I will._

The Doctor gave himself a little shake and came back to reality when Jamie remembered his original question. “But what’s all this got to do with where they took Victoria?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, even though we weren’t on their home world, when more than one Strapsket are in the same place, a telepathic link still forms between them. We were surrounded by guards when Delf caught us, so we were standing right in the middle of their telepathic field, and all I had to do was, well, peek at where they’d brought her.”

Realization dawned on Jamie’s face. “You mean you read their minds?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“You can read people’s minds? I thought that was just something people said.”

“Something that humans say, yes. But you know I’m not human.”

“Aye but—” The Doctor didn’t want to lie to him, so he stopped him from getting to that question.

“And we do happen to have our own telepathic abilities.”

“Like the Strapsket?”

“Well, a little. I hope you won’t think me too rude if I point out that my people are a bit more advanced than that. Mind reading, as it were, is really only used when needed for interrogation, our psychic senses have many other, more practical uses.”

“Like what?” Jamie asked, puzzled.

“Well, like communicating mentally over long distances, for example. Or recognizing one another after someone’s changed their face. Some of my people practice developing strong hypnotic powers, some are adept at memory manipulation.” He was a little uneasy about nearly lying to Jamie like this, by omitting the fact that _any_ Time Lord could do those things, but it was perfectly true that some concentrated on those skills more than others, and he desperately wanted to avoid frightening Jamie.

He knew he was hardly the model of Time Lord non-interference, but one thing he did stick to was not meddling in the heads of his human companions - except, of course, if it were to help them, like it had been when Dodo was hypnotized. But even that exception gave him pause sometimes; since she never did return to him after going away to recover in the country, he would always wonder if he hadn’t alienated her a bit too much. He probably hadn't - most things rolled off that girl like water off a duck, and they just happened to have landed in her own place and time for once – but they’d never even said goodbye, so he couldn’t stop himself from worrying.

Jamie, apparently, did not share his concerns. “Can you read my mind?”

“I wouldn’t,” the Doctor reassured him instantly, “I promise. And anyway, you would've known. Humans only have very basic psychic abilities, not enough to play an active role, but enough to provide some reflexive shielding from invasive forces. It wouldn’t prevent much, but you would notice if I tried, at least.” He felt another pang of guilt at failing to mention the part where it wouldn't matter very much that Jamie could detect someone perusing his memories if they followed up their meddling with a mind wipe, but some things just didn't bear thinking about.

Jamie seemed uninterested in the details. “So you could?”

“Of course I can, but why would I?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged and ambled over to drop himself down beside the Doctor. “What if I saw something important and you needed to know about it but I didn’t have the right words to explain it? Like with different species or computers or something. Or even writing.”

The Doctor pretended not to notice Jamie’s self-deprecating jab at his progress with his reading skills. “Well, I’d still only be able to see your own thoughts on the matter, so if you were looking at an alien language or a damaged piece of equipment you’d need to be paying quite a lot of attention to the right parts for the details to be helpful.”

“Aye but, say I was?”

“Well, yes. I could. But don’t go searching out opportunities for my sake--” he cut himself off when this seemed to spark Jamie’s interest.

“For your sake? You mean you’d like it?” The Doctor tried not to blush.

“That’s not really what I meant. I just— for my people, telepathic abilities aren’t just something that you do. It’s a sense that I have, like sight or touch or hearing. To be honest with you, I’d completely forgotten about the Strapsket’s hive mind until I felt their connections around us when we were captured. So being away from other telepathic beings, not having anything to pick up on at all . . . well, sometimes it’s a bit like wandering around in the dark.”

“You’re . . . touch-starved?” Jamie asked, making an effort to remember the word.

The Doctor blinked at him. “Where did you hear that?” He’d rather hit the nail on the head. He did that a lot, but the Doctor hadn’t expected any human to understand this sort of thing so easily.

“You said it once, about that lost kid we found in the mines on Plerotha.”

“Oh, did I?” the Doctor asked absently, wondering if he should be bothered to learn that he reminded Jamie of a lost child.

“So is it like that then?” Jamie pressed.

“I suppose, a little. . .”

“Then it was nice? Seeing another psychic thing after . . ?” he trailed off, not knowing.

“A long time,” the Doctor nodded. “So long I don’t usually think about it. And not all psychic presences are benign, of course. You don’t want to get used to letting your guard down in case you come across the wrong ones, so I mostly don’t go looking.” He couldn't tell Jamie that he wasn’t worried so much about being overpowered mentally as he was afraid of being identified as a Time Lord, so he didn't.

“Go looking?”

“I suppose what I do is a bit like walking around with your hands over your ears, or wearing gloves everywhere. I can still sense something powerful, like the hive mind, but mostly I just keep it shut off. I’ve gotten used to that, anyway. Oh, it’s not so bad,” he added, at the sight of Jamie’s look of deep concern.

“Do you not ever want to take the gloves off?”

The Doctor skirted the question. “It’s usually safer that I don’t.” He had hoped that would put an end to it, that they could relax in front of the fire after a long, tiring day. Maybe he could read a book – if not with Jamie, at least to him, they both usually enjoyed that. But Jamie wasn’t satisfied yet.

He huffed. “It doesn’t sound like a help, this mind reading stuff. Sounds more like a chore to me. Is there not anything pleasant you can do with it?”

“A truly foreign concept to my people, Jamie, I assure you,” the Doctor smiled, patting Jamie on the knee. Foreign or not, there were indeed more pleasing uses for a Time Lord’s telepathic powers, but most of Gallifrey ignored those; Jamie certainly didn’t need to know about them. “Of course, someone less prone to running into danger than I am could always just . . . look. Do the opposite of what I’ve been doing. Allow themself to sense other minds, other presences, rather than shutting them out. That can be quite nice, in the right company, anyway. Like opening your eyes to a beautiful landscape. That’s pleasant, isn’t it?”

“Like taking your gloves off?”

“Yes, if you like.”

“Why don’t you do that here then? I mean, while we’re safe?”

“Oh, I do. The Tardis and I can communicate mentally, that’s part of how I fly her.”

Jamie folded his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. “Then judging by how well that goes, it’s not so nice either.”

The Doctor shot him a scowl but it melted when Jamie swatted jokingly at his arm. He wasn’t sure why he was still indulging the boy, or why it felt like indulging himself, too, to be explaining this rather than hushing it all away, but he kept on. “I put the gloves on, so to speak, when we go out, when there are other unknowns around.”

“So, right now, on board the Tardis . . .”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the Doctor hurried to explain, thinking he knew what Jamie was getting at. “I can’t just see _your_ mind any time I want, Jamie, humans aren’t quite psychic enough to show up properly on their own. They require a bit more attention, like placing something under a magnifying glass, as it were, to get a decent look. It's true that more direct involvement might be possible remotely, but as I said, that sort of thing's invasive enough that you'd—”

“What if I wanted you to look at my mind?”

“I told you not to worry about—”

“But I’d like to know what it’d be like.”

“For you? Not much. I’d put my hands on the contact points at your temples and just sort of . . . look in, for want of a better word. Really, it would just be like looking through a window. I could see something there, but there wouldn’t be any sort of interaction. You wouldn’t feel anything.”

“Would you do it then?” Jamie’s voice was oddly quiet, just barely there over the low crackle from the fireplace, and the Doctor found he also couldn’t raise his own much above a whisper.

“Why?”

He shrugged, but a rapt attentiveness had come over his features and tone, undermining his attempts to seem disinterested. “I don’t know. Just to see.”

“You wouldn’t _see_ anything.”

“Do you know that for sure though? I mean, have you done this before? Because, you said you’ve been in the dark for a long time now--”

“Just taking a look wouldn’t register with you.” The Doctor kept his voice neutral and shook his head. He was aware that they had moved from just discussing it to Jamie offering, but he wasn’t sure which way he should be encouraging the conversation. If Jamie had been a Time Lord – at least, if he were one of the less paranoid ones and didn’t go everywhere with some kind of a shield up – then the Doctor would already be able to sense another mental presence there, like he sensed the Tardis. Just because looking at a human mind required a touch more effort didn’t really mean it was so big of a difference, did it? Of course, the Time Lords themselves would probably disagree, but they would also disagree with the Doctor even knowing Jamie, and they’d _certainly_ never understand how he felt about his human companion, so their perspective didn’t really have a place here, as far as he cared.

Jamie’s voice was quiet again, but he spoke slowly and made sure the Doctor caught each word. “I don’t think I’d like having one of my senses shut off for so long.”

“Well,” he began, so lamely in comparison to Jamie’s gentle gravity that he was almost pleased to be cut off, “at least in the Tardis I can—”

“Aye, in the Tardis. But if the Tardis is so tricky, and humans aren’t psychic enough to register, isn’t that a little like only opening your eyes when you’re standing in a dark room anyway?”

“Well yes, when you put it like that I—”

“So why not just try it? It might be a nice change, and it’s not like it’ll hurt me.”

“No, no of course it wouldn’t. I’d never--”

“Then why not?”

The Doctor hesitated a moment. If he were to do anything, it would just be a quick look, a short break from the mental loneliness he’d grown accustomed to when he’d said goodbye to his granddaughter a few years ago already. And it would be Jamie. He wouldn’t see much, and with him he surely couldn’t see anything new. He hadn’t known he’d decided until he heard himself ask, “Where’s Victoria?”

Jamie blinked, then answered in a rush. “Asleep in her room on the other side of the ship. She wanted a rest on her own, Doctor, she’s not coming looking for us.”

“Then . . . if you really want to. There isn’t any harm.”

“Aye, so, what do we have to do?” He clapped his hands together and shifted himself further back on the chaise lounge so he was sitting cross-legged, and faced the Doctor.

“Oh, not much," he pulled his legs up to mirror Jamie and slipped into an easy instructive attitude. After all, this was a fascinating subject to try to explain, and sharing the marvels of the universe with Jamie was something he could do quite comfortably. “All you have to do is sit there, and I’ll put my hands here,” he held a hand up parallel with the side of Jamie’s head, but didn’t make contact yet. “And then I’ll be able to sense your mental presence. The best thing I can compare it to is when you walk past someone on a crowded street. You get a glimpse of what they look like, how tall they are or what they’re wearing, what color their hair is, how fast or how gracefully they move. You might be able to feel their proximity as they approach you, to hear them walking or breathing or even catch a hint of what they smell like. You might be able to see an expression on their face, or detect a tone in their voice, but nothing as distinct as the words they’re saying. You can draw whatever conclusions you want about them from all this, but you can’t read their thoughts or anything like that. Among telepathic beings this happens automatically, without physical contact, and primarily serves the purpose of helping you to recognize a person even if they’ve changed their physical appearance, though of course that’s not a concern for us now. It _might_ be possible for you to pick up on a particularly strong emotion, like when someone can’t help smiling to themselves after receiving particularly good news. But that’s about as much information as you could ever hope to gain just from looking at someone’s mind like this, nothing more.”

Jamie had listened to this very intently, and now he nodded, correcting him. “You mean, it’s as much as _you_ could hope to gain, I’m not going to feel anything.”

“Quite. All you’ll be able to feel is my hands on your head. I apologize if they’re a bit cold.” The Doctor rubbed his hands together in a feeble little attempt to generate heat, and Jamie laughed.

"Go on then.” He leaned forward, offering himself to the Doctor.

“Alright, here we are.” Carefully, he brushed aside the hair on either side of Jamie’s face and gently pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples.


	2. Enjoyment

"Oh, Jamie!" the Doctor gasped, nearly breathless in a sharp departure from the friendly but instructive tone he’d spoken in only an instant ago.

"What is it, Doctor?" Jamie asked, slightly concerned, not daring to move or do anything at all - but how was he supposed to not do anything inside his own head?

"Nothing, it’s just- well, I really shouldn’t be surprised. You have a very beautiful mind."

"Och, how can a mind be beautiful?" he asked dismissively, fighting the urge to shake his head in denial, but even without fully understanding what the Doctor meant, a little rosy color had crept into his cheeks.

"Oh, believe me, if you could see this you’d understand."

" _Can_ I see?" Jamie asked, properly curious now. Having the Doctor be able to see his mind didn't really feel any different at all - maybe there was a slight tingling from the proximity of another mind beside his, but that was just as likely to be the standard amount Jamie sometimes felt from their ongoing physical proximity. He was comfortable being close to him of course, but despite the Doctor’s insistence, he really had expected to feel something different this time, and now when it failed to show up, he discovered that he’d also _hoped_ to feel it, too, quite badly.

"I’m afraid not. I'm sorry if it's a disappointment, but I told you humans don't have much in the way of psychic awareness, it’s simply not a sense you possess,” the Doctor said, attempting to return to his earlier didactic way of speaking, but he couldn’t shake the awe from his voice entirely. How long had it been since he’d seen a mind like Jamie’s? Had he ever? It wasn’t anything like a Time Lord’s. “To extend our metaphor, it’s a little like blindness, your mind exists and therefore it can be observed, but you yourself can’t--.”

“Aye I know, but all those other things you said you could do – can none of them show me somehow?” The Doctor opened his eyes to stare searchingly into Jamie’s. He could still sense his mind as clear as a bell, but the moment he’d first caught sight of it he’d shut his eyes instinctively to focus on drinking it in. Now he tried to gauge what Jamie was angling at, and the boy’s expression and all its familiar tells were likely to be as helpful as his mind was.

“Theoretically, there might be a way,” the Doctor mused, “though, I have to point out, it would mean a bit more than just being able to sense you like I can now – it’s your own mind, so to really make you aware . . . I suppose if we were able to connect mentally, to forge and use a link between both our minds, then you’d have access to my senses as well, including the telepathic, and you could see your own mind through the lens of mine. And since you’d be able to see my mind as well, for comparison, perhaps then you might have an idea of how very lovely yours is." The Doctor was rather pleased with himself just for working out the logic of their hypothetical, but Jamie’s eyes positively lit up in wonder.

"You mean I can see into your mind too? Even though I’m not like you?"

"It’s possible, yes. I can set up a connection instead of just peering in, as it were - that is, if you’d be alright with it."

"Why would I not be alright with seeing your mind?"

"Well, among my people this is all seen as very intimate, perhaps the most intimate way in which you can know a person, so it’s not to be taken lightly. Especially the way we’d be doing it," and if Jamie’d had more of his wits about him he would almost have sworn the Doctor blushed, "I mean, this _is_ more or less for our own pleasure and amusement, it’s not like there’s any other purpose to it."

"It’s intimate, you say?"

"Well yes, it’s supposed to be. And I think so, too. It feels it, to me. You certainly need a lot of trust, and a level of comfortability with one another, to do what we’re talking about now."

"But you’re not supposed to do it unless you have to for something?" The Doctor could see the wheels turning in Jamie's head as he formulated his opinion on the matter, and rushed to reassure him.

"Not really, but that does depend upon how much you care about 'supposed to.' There’s nothing bad or dangerous about it, I wouldn't offer if there were. It's just that my people are historically a rather prudish and cold lot, so they wouldn’t approve of making connections like this without a good reason."

"Doctor, if it’s an intimate connection and it’s looked at as a kind of a sin to do it just because you want to, is it like having sex?"

Somehow, always, as well as they knew one another, Jamie still surprised the Doctor. And yet somehow, always, he wasn't very far off the mark.

Not wanting to appear as stumped as he felt, the Doctor focused on keeping his composure. "Does it feel like having sex to you, Jamie?" he asked, levelly.

"Well, I’ll let you know when you’ve finished."

"Oh my," the Doctor raised his eyebrows, opting for the relative safety of humor.

"No, that’s not what I meant!" Jamie's blush darkened, and while the Doctor was just buying himself time to think it all over, it would've been worth it to see that alone. "I only mean, you can see into my mind now but I can’t see into yours yet, since you haven’t finished making the connection."

"The connection’s already there between us Jamie, all I’d have to do is activate it." It had taken him a moment to notice, overwhelmed as he was at the sight of another mind – let alone one as inspiring and inviting as Jamie’s - after mentally isolating himself for so long, but it was true. There was indeed a link between them, a subtle magnetic force that made him feel like removing his fingers from Jamie’s temples unexplored would be a terrible tragedy.

"How can it be there already?"

"You know, I'm not completely sure? Must be all the time we’ve spent together, eh?" He managed to keep his tone light but he truly couldn’t account for it. He’d never heard of Time Lords forging bonds without deliberate intention, but he couldn’t argue with the evidence of his own senses. Perhaps there were things even the Time Lords didn’t understand about themselves, it was hardly out of the question, when he considered how much they discouraged talking about this, let alone exploring it first hand.

"But you said it wasn’t so easy, that it required trust and comfort and-" Jamie had a way of cutting right to the quick, and now it was the Doctor's turn to blush.

"Yes, well, as I said. It’s there already, if you’d like me to use it. If you’re alright with it still, given everything I’ve said."

"About it being like making love with someone?"

"That was your idea Jamie, not mine."

"Aye, but you didn’t deny it. Still haven’t," he added, slightly surprising himself with his own boldness, but the words continued to tumble out. "Do your people even have sex, the normal way?"

The Doctor wondered if he'd be so composed if he were having this conversation without the advantage of being able to see a little of Jamie's mind. Not wanting to press his luck, he kept his hands on the boy's temples. "If by ‘the normal way’ you mean in an anatomically similar way to how humans do, then yes, we’re capable of that too."

"Capable of it? But do you actually do it? Or am I asking too personal a question?" he added quickly. Something about what they were doing was evidently leading the Doctor to be a bit more forthcoming than he usually was, but Jamie didn't want to push him too far and risk breaking this delicate new balance that seemed to have stared when the Doctor first touched him. He hadn't removed his fingers from the sides of his face even once yet, and Jamie didn't want to do anything that might make him pull away. In a way, he wanted to see how long he could get the Doctor to keep them there, even if they weren't doing whatever mental connection business they were intended for.

The Doctor let out a small laugh. "I’m on the threshold of opening my mind entirely to you, and you ask if something’s too personal a question?"

"You said it wasn’t mind reading, though, more like just . . . looking."

"True, but if we both engage it’s not quite either. Less like looking and a little more like touching - more mutual - like a sort of merging or combining."

"So would you be able to see what I’m thinking _then_?"

"No, not exactly. I’d have a sense of how you were feeling - and you of me - and sort of flashes of consciousness, but usually nothing so concrete as specific thoughts, not without really concentrating and working at it. And I promise you I'll be perfectly respectful, I would never go looking for any more than you offered to show me."

"I'm not really worried about me. But what about the other way round? I know you like to keep private about certain things, and I'm not trying to force you into telling, but I won't know how to avoid them if I'm in your head."

"I appreciate your concern for me, but as you’ve never done anything like this before I’m not too worried about you reading anything specific or private in mine."

"Oh right, of course, I can barely read with my eyes."

"That’s not at all what I meant Jamie," the Doctor objected, unable to let it go a second time, and certainly not while they were like this. "Your reading is coming along splendidly, in fact, I can see right now how much learning you’ve done recently, how absolutely expansive your mind has become lately, how it’s still going even now, just like the universe itself," it was impossible to keep the admiration out of his voice, even if he could see that it disarmed Jamie a little.

"You’re really talking this up, aren’t you?" he asked, so quietly it may not have been audible if they weren't so close together.

“I’m enjoying looking," the Doctor admitted, only a tad bashfully.

"Then why not open the connection so we can both see?"

"Well, you haven’t exactly said yes yet. And that’s fine, I’m happy to answer your questions and I understand the hesitation - humans may possess a bit of latent psychic ability, but this kind of connection really is foreign to your species on the whole, so I understand if you’re somewhat trepidatious."

"Do I look trepidatious to you?" Jamie asked, a funny little tone creeping into his voice, almost coming-on. In order to ignore it, the Doctor closed his eyes, focusing instead on Jamie's mind swirling underneath him, and answered truthfully.

"No, not really."

"What _do_ I look like?" Jamie asked, and the Doctor knew what he meant, so he kept his eyes closed and considered.

". . . Curious," he ventured, after a moment. He could tell Jamie was watching his face intently and tried not to get distracted. "Inquisitive? No, it’s more . . . amorphous than that. Maybe . . . anticipatory?"

"I was going to say excited," Jamie admitted with a grin, after the Doctor looked at him again.

"Well. Quite. Does that mean you want to then?"

"What do you think, Doctor?"

The Doctor sighed. Ordinarily he'd take coming-on, can't-give-a-straight-answer, slightly flirtatious Jamie any day of the week, but now was a time for certainty. He was only human, after all, and the Doctor ought to be careful with him. "I _think_ I want to make sure I’ve got a clear answer first. Even so, it might be a little overwhelming, and I don’t want to startle you. If you’re not sure, we don’t have to--"

"No, I’m just enjoying you answering my questions for once. Though I suppose you haven't got much of a choice about keeping things secret, if we’re going to do what we’re going to do." He quite liked hearing Jamie put it like that, but the responsible side of his brain forced him to correct him again.

"We’ll still have secrets, Jamie. It’s not mind reading, like I said."

"You said it’s stronger."

"Stronger, yes, but also more organic and elemental than reading a mind. This method wouldn't be much good for that, it’s hard to focus and it affects both parties equally - or at least, it should. I should warn you, I’ve never actually done _this_ with a human before." He didn't want to scare Jamie, but it was only fair that he knew. He was certain it wouldn't hurt him, but whether or not he'd enjoy it or get much of anything out of it, the Doctor just couldn't say. He didn't expect Jamie to laugh, however.

"Well, I’ve never done it with a man from another planet before, either."

"You’ve never done this at all, Jamie."

"That wasn’t what I meant, Doctor," he teased, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Ah, so we’re back on that, then." The Doctor rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, but Jamie's bravado seemed to have spent itself all the same.

"I’m sorry--" he began, even as the Doctor tried to reassure him.

"Don’t apologize, there’s no need--"

"--Only now I keep thinking of it like that, and I’m just trying to understand if it’s similar."

"It’s got nothing to do with physicality or reproduction or any of that if that’s what you mean," the Doctor explained patiently, hoping Jamie hadn't scared himself off with his own comparison. The more he thought about it, the more of a point Jamie had in terms of the cultural significance the acts held, but he wasn't sure he wanted to share that thought with an 18th century highlander just yet, even if he was his best friend. True as it was that Jamie had adapted to his travels in the future with admirable ease, the Doctor didn't want to push him too far past his comfort zone, not where their own relationship was concerned, at least, and the insinuation that the two of them were hovering around the possibility of doing something like that might just be too much for him.

"I wasn’t asking that," Jamie insisted, defensive. "I know we’re not having a bairn from doing this."

"Of course not. And for my people, having sex doesn’t even lead to that, so, if it makes you feel any better—" Even as he said it he realized that far from placating Jamie, that little announcement would only make him more inquisitive, especially today.

Jamie's eyes widened with adorable predictability. "Wait, so what does, then? Or is that too personal too?"

"I told you Jamie, you’re alright with me, it’s not too personal."

"Aye, but you didn't answer either, you just sort of changed the—" The Doctor sighed, knowing there was no way Jamie would let him off the hook now. He quickly worked out the least amount he could say, avoiding giving Jamie any specific names or places - things it could be dangerous for a mind with only human defenses to know in some of the situations they got themselves into - and began to explain.

"Originally, my species reproduced in much the same way yours does, but as you already know, my people are capable of undergoing great physical changes that aren't particularly conducive to that style of child bearing, so the ability to reproduce in that way was removed."

Jamie looked a little dumbfounded, almost sad. "You can’t have children anymore?"

The Doctor shook his head patiently. "I can - you know I have - it just wouldn't look the same as it does with you humans. You don’t become pregnant, for example, the way my people do it."

"I can't be pregnant, Doctor," Jamie corrected, just as patiently, well used to his friend forgetting some of the basics of humanity. "It doesn’t work that way for humans, it’s women—"

"I didn't mean you specifically, Jamie. I meant to say we have a completely separate method – that is, a genetic bio copy of both parents is created and woven together, then grown in a type of organic genetics machine, for lack of a better term. And nobody has to be pregnant."

"You’re talking like anybody could've been," Jamie said with a small laugh.

"Well, that's another pro to this system," the Doctor went on, not sure if it was better he be honest or if he was digging his own grave with the new direction their conversation had taken. He'd all but given up on getting a clear answer out of Jamie and now worried only about not alienating the boy beyond repair. "It doesn't depend upon one of the parents being able to carry a child."

"What, you mean like . . . like you wouldn't need--? Does that mean men could--?" This was precisely the opposite of where the Doctor had wanted this conversation to go.

"Yes, but as I say, to my people reproduction is separate from sex and both are completely separate from what we were trying to do here, so none of that really--"

"'Were' trying to do here? Aren't we still?" Jamie had the gall to look hurt, and the Doctor wasn't prepared for that.

"Well, haven't I put you off with all my talk of reproducing? And, and I know in your period men aren't typically expected to engage in that sort of thing together, and you keep likening this to sex so I thought you were getting uncomfortable with the idea--"

"Do I look uncomfortable?"

"Not particularly, but that doesn’t mean you might not be—"

"Aren't you still watching my mind?"

"No," the Doctor admitted, "actually, I stopped looking when I started thinking I might be making you uncomfortable, it seemed rude."

"Then why’s your hand still—" Jamie began, gesturing to where the Doctor's right hand still rested on Jamie's temple like it belonged there, and the Doctor snatched it away immediately. "I didn't say I wanted you to move it!"

"I'm sorry," the Doctor insisted, wringing his hands together nervously, his eyes darting around as he tried to look anywhere but at Jamie's, which was difficult since the boy hadn't pulled back at all, so his eyes still occupied quite a sizeable portion of the view, and they were quite nice to look at besides, "this has rather gotten out of hand hasn’t it? I’m so sorry, Jamie, I didn't mean for this at all, I never should have started this, it’s too much—"

"I thought you _liked_ looking at my mind?"

"I- I do, I did. But I won’t intrude again—"

"I don't want you to not intrude again- it’s not even intruding, I want you to—"

"I’ve made things difficult, I'm so sorry—"

"Doctor will you just listen to me?" Jamie caught his wrists, stilling him and commanding his attention. "I want you to try and open the connection."

"You don't need to say that," the Doctor cautioned, but staring into Jamie's eyes again he felt exposed enough they might as well have already started.

"I know," Jamie assured him, his voice gentle and soft, and he shifted his hold so that he was clasping the Doctor's hands between his own, rough and warm and almost pleading. "I want to see it. Or, to feel it. To feel you there. I only asked questions because you said it was special and you’re makin' a fuss over makin' sure I want to and I _know_ I want to, but I wanted to be sure I wasn't misunderstanding something about how important it is to you. I don't want connecting our minds to be another one of those things from the future I can't make heads nor tails of. I want to be able to understand it and to treasure it like I’m meant to."

 _Like I’m meant to._ The words echoed in the Doctor’s head and settled in his hearts, heavy but at home there. He swallowed. "You make it sound . . . almost sacred. Reverential." It wasn't what he’d planned on saying but with Jamie staring into him like that all he could do was breathe deeply and tell him the truth. "Not like how I’ve been taught to think of it as something rather taboo."

"You might have been taught that, but you sound like you think it’s reverential too."

"We aren’t supposed to—"

"Aye, I know.” Jamie rolled his eyes and let out a little amused laugh. “We aren't the type of people who are supposed to be connecting intimately. So what? You said it yourself, we already have a connection just waitin’ there to be used. Surely that’s a better show of what we _should_ do than any of the silly rules either of us grew up around?" The Doctor let out a sigh, and only truly realized how tense he'd been now that he relaxed. Why had he ever worried? Wasn't his ability to really understand things like that, and to put them into words where the Doctor struggled half the reason that he loved Jamie as much as he did?

"Yes. Yes you're right of course, and yes it’s there. I only worry I haven't explained it sufficiently, that you can't fully grasp what you’re agreeing to until you’ve seen it, that it still might be too strange," the Doctor paused for a moment, not wanting to say it but knowing he needed to, that Jamie deserved him to, "too alien."

Jamie only laced his fingers through the Doctor's in response, shaking his head and smiling. "Then there's nothing more we can do to help me understand than to show me what it's like, is there?"

"Can I ask a question first?"

"As long as it’s not 'do I want to do this' again, only because I'll answer that before you can say it: yes, I do." He brought the Doctor's right hand back up to his own left temple and left it there, but he kept hold of his other hand, tracing the lines on his palm and running his thumb over his fingers. Frankly, the Doctor thought, this would be more than enough contact for the two of them, but he kept that thought to himself, he had something more important that needed clarifying.

"It’s not that," but still the Doctor smiled, "I only wanted to ask why you keep likening it to sex. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I can’t always keep track of the prevailing fashions on earth as far as how that sort of intimacy is regraded. I travel plenty, but it doesn't always come up or make itself clear, and in any case all that really matters now is how _you_ think of it."

"How I think of sex?" He seemed genuinely taken aback by the question, but the Doctor was intent on understanding, determined to match Jamie's investment.

"Well yes, what is it for you?"

"Well it’s . . . it’s nice, right? ‘A pleasurable act,’ like you were sayin’ before, whether or not you think it’s sinful. And for humans it’s how you start a family, but you said it’s not like that for you, so-- but it doesn't really matter, does it?"

" _Does_ it? I think that's part of what I'm asking."

"At the end of the day, I think it’s just about getting as close as you can to a person you love. That’s why I thought, before when you said it was such an intimate connection . . . it sounds like even more than sex when you put it that way."

"And that didn't startle you or alarm you at all? Even to hear that the potential for a connection like that already exists between us?"

"That’s coming pretty close to asking if I'm alright with it again-" Jamie pointed out, a wry smile starting to form on his lips, but he didn't let it get too far, the Doctor could tell he cared greatly about getting this point across. "But no, I wasn't alarmed. Maybe a little—"

"Pleased!" the Doctor all but shouted, unable to contain himself as he felt it radiating out from Jamie.

"I was going more for ‘flattered,’ but you’re peeking again."

"You invited me to," the Doctor realized as he said it that Jamie had _meant_ to show him that, had stopped his own sentence short in the hopes that the Doctor would announce it for him, and he had, without even recognizing the intention. Their connection really was strong, even before he did a thing with it.

"I know. I'm _glad_ you're peeking. And I was pleased, but not too surprised. I mean, I thought about it, and it makes sense. Don't you think it does?"

"As much as anything about us likely ever will," the Doctor admitted. He would never be able to say it made sense that they had managed to find one another, in all of time and space.

"I’m sure, Doctor. If you are?"

"Oh, I am. Here, put your hands on my head like I have mine on yours." But even as he demonstrated, the Doctor took it upon himself to place Jamie's hands, greedy now and unwilling to relinquish contact for even the split second it would take Jamie to move them himself. "You don't really need to keep them there, but that's where they’d go if you were able to initiate it yourself, and physical contact always helps, especially there. Now just relax and keep your mind open. Your lovely, beautiful mind."


	3. Love and Pleasure

Jamie had been watching the corners of the Doctor’s mouth twitch up into a smile as his eyes slid closed, but suddenly he could _feel_ that smile as well, feel it in his heart and in his bones as if he were the one doing it, and he was sure he probably had started grinning like a madman too before he even fully understood what was happening. Perhaps he’d never fully understand, not well enough to be able to articulate it to another person, anyway, but luckily for him the only person he’d ever want to share this with was there alongside him, all around him. Everywhere he turned, his consciousness was mixing ceaselessly with the Doctor’s, and he couldn’t for the life of him begin to pick apart if the thrill he felt running down his spine was his own or second hand. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and felt the Doctor’s concern for him, deep and genuine and aching at the slightest hint of possible discomfort in Jamie, and his own relief swelled within him as he assured the Doctor wordlessly that he was alright.

It was like the Doctor had said, all feelings and consciousness and thought, but nothing he could come close to putting mere words to – instead it was a sensation and a pull and a spark all at once, and swimming through it all ran a current of deep, deep contentment. As he settled in over the initial shock, he started to notice the shape of the mental place they inhabited together, and though it was constantly in flux around them that itself felt right, like it was vital and alive, the landscape moving and growing as they hummed like a stuck cord within it, the atmosphere shifting to accommodate them better, to amplify and highlight everything they felt in fascinating new colors and warm dark shadows.

He began to see more clearly what was himself and what was the Doctor, but his efforts kept being pleasantly frustrated by the fact that the more he understood, the more he loved it, and the more he loved it, the more the Doctor was thrilled and enamored with Jamie’s presence, their connection, and how naturally it suited them both. Then Jamie would without fail fall into mirroring those feelings, and the two of them would get caught in a little loop of their own happiness for a while until something else in the landscape would catch someone’s attention.

And there was love there. Sunny and bright and glad but also piercing and tender and desperate. Jamie had thought at one point maybe he ought to try and hide it, but that was impossible, not just because of his inexperience, but because of the sheer size and scope of it, how far down it went and permeated everything here, how it called out to be seen and heard and felt and part of everything else. He was almost afraid to pay too much attention to it – it played such a large role in everything else he worried that the ground might fall out from under him if he brought it up to the surface, tried to hold it up to his eyes and focus on it too hard – but of course there was no ground, no surface, and no eyes here, either.

But his mind did focus on it, somehow. He became entangled in it and in harmony with it at the same time, and to Jamie’s astonishment, pulling on this one particular thread did not send the whole picture into disarray, did not unravel the tapestry or upset all the other things clinging to it like vines covering an ancient tree, crawling up the sides of a house, weaving across the surface of a planet. Instead it made everything else slide into sharper relief, a calmer sort of motion that was even easier to process, though whether the atmosphere had shifted or his perception of it had simply fallen into pace he couldn’t tell. Perhaps this was what moving at the speed of light – the speed of thought – felt like, for suddenly everything was completely clear to him. He just couldn’t see it all at once, he had to pick and choose where to direct his attention even as he was buffeted by emotions and sensations like a ship that had come untethered from the sea and drifted off wondrously among the stars.

Just now he was considering all that love, love under a thousand different names that sketched out and colored in and molded and lit this world, eager and bursting and simple and resting and he realized the improbable, the implausible, the completely inevitable – it was not all his own. In fact, none of it was. Not a single stitch of it could be said to be his and his alone, the only thing in his mind he thought he might need to downplay, to explain away, to ignore. When everything shifted into place, he could see quite distinctly what was his and what was the Doctor’s, but this defied any attempt at being divided up and categorized. It wasn’t made of the right stuff to be identified, sorted like the rest of the phenomena here. It had no owner. Instead, it was the very fabric of their connection, and nothing but a perfect communion could be responsible for it. Inside their connection that understanding dawned like a sunset, so impossible was it to realize something so inherent in its own reality, but the onslaught that admission had on Jamie’s conscious mind could not be ignored, and he felt himself pulling the Doctor with him as he snapped back to his senses.

It took him a moment to strike a balance between his internal and external senses, to notice he had come to be clutching at the Doctor’s head and leaning against his forehead while his mind had been quite literally elsewhere. Jamie tried to take charge of his breathing, at least, and pulled back a couple of inches from the Doctor, just enough to get a clear view of his face. He, too, looked a little blown away, but he was watching Jamie with an openness that spoke more of anticipation than concern.

Suddenly in that moment Jamie could no longer resist. Overwhelmed by his own feelings and the magnitude of seeing them reciprocated and emboldened in the Doctor’s mind, he threw his arms around his neck and kissed him wildly, desperately, for a short moment before he pulled back, breathless, asking, "Should I not have done that?"

"No, Jamie, you’re right, you absolutely should have." The Doctor, too, was out of breath, his chest heaving and his hands gripping Jamie’s shoulders possessively. He shifted his legs and pulled Jamie up into his lap.

" _We_ should have."

The Doctor nodded. "We were meant to." Through his smile, he dipped his head down and dove in for another kiss, but Jamie beat him to it, surging forward and knocking him over so they both tumbled back against the cushions. Jamie braced his forearms on either side of the Doctor’s head and returned enthusiastically to his lips as the Doctor's arms closed around his waist.

* * *

Some time later, when the fire was smoldering low in the grate and the artificial sunlight filtering in from the arched windows high above was beginning to mimic an evening angle, Jamie stretched out and laid back with his arms beneath his head as he waited for his heart to return to a normal resting rate. Staring up at the vaulting ceiling of the library, he silently thanked god that the aliens who’d designed this particular piece of furniture seemed to be twice as large as humans. He didn’t trust his legs to carry him anywhere just now, and he thought he would be quite comfortable laying here with the Doctor beside him for the rest of his life, if need be.

By now, their connection had faded into a gentle hum in the back of his mind, and although Jamie somehow knew that it would never fully go away with the Doctor so close to him, his concentration had slipped from maintaining the link at some point over the course of the last – oh, it had to be at least an hour or so now, didn’t it?

He hadn’t meant to neglect it, but he couldn’t help himself from becoming more and more distracted by how much he was enjoying his normal senses just then, and if the enthusiastic responses the Doctor gave to all of Jamie’s careful devotion were anything to judge by, he was also too satisfied to be bothered. _There was something to work on for the future_ , Jamie thought, but this first time, today, he couldn’t bear to miss out on fully appreciating the exact feeling of the Doctor’s mouth on his, the weight of their bodies pressed together, the familiar scent that surrounded him when he buried his face in his chest, or the sound of his two hearts beating as he rested his head there, taking such pleasure in the reassurance that they brought. It didn’t matter how often they touched before, his full attention was commanded by every brush of his hands and lips against any available inch of skin, even if that wasn’t very much with the both of them still fully clothed. Well, very nearly fully clothed – Jamie’s scarf had come unknotted and slid over his shoulder to the floor when the Doctor had become particularly interested in his neck, but that was an honest accident that could’ve happened to anyone lost in the thralls of their own happiness. The Doctor was even still wearing his baggy old coat, but Jamie thought that was probably for the best; there was no telling how long it’d take them to move from here otherwise, possibly days.

Now resting serenely in the afterglow of their chaste but passionate episode, a thought occurred so naturally to Jamie that he spoke it aloud the instant it popped into his head.

"Have you ever thought of doing that - connecting - while you make love?"

The Doctor chuckled softly beside him. Laying down, his hair had fallen back off of his face, and his eyes sparkled brightly as he glanced up at Jamie. "Oh, so that’s what we’re calling it now?"

Jamie shook his head decisively. "You can’t do what we just did while having sex, but you could while making love."

The Doctor rolled onto his side and faced him, his hair falling back into characteristic disarray as he did so. "Oh? You sound quite certain."

"I am."

"I show you how to connect with someone in a way no other human has presumably done in all of your history and now you’re an expert on _all_ the ways people can connect?" The false skepticism in his voice was overshadowed by how affectionately he placed his hand on Jamie’s chest, spreading his fingers out over the fabric of his shirt.

"Aye, if you like," he said, giving a curt nod.

"Careful, that sounds dangerously like an offer."

"That’s because it was an offer, Doctor."

"Oh my."

"But I think you already knew that," he confided in a mock whisper, turning onto his side so that they were nose-to-nose. The Doctor’s hand slid off his chest and Jamie caught it in his own.

"Is that so?" he asked, his eyebrows shooting up under his bangs.

"Aye, it’d account for the smugness at any rate."

"Jamie dear, if you will keep flirting like this, you’re going to have to get used to a certain amount of smugness from me in response."

"Oh, I think I can get used to that." He grinned, biting his lip and twisting his fingers in the Doctor’s.

Yes, he certainly could get used to all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this of course turned out to be twice as long as I meant it to be, etc., etc. But I did want to write something in which Jamie and the Doctor take their time to slowly, naturally, casually come to face how they already feel about one another, with the emphasis on their closeness, comfortability together and a very general sort of intimacy - so if nothing else, I'll have given them the time to do that.
> 
> As I mentioned before, I was also originally going to post it with page breaks instead of chapters, since it's all one scene, but then "Ae Fond Kiss" happened to play on shuffle one night while I was editing it and I realized "peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure" were kind of exactly the stages I had already written (or at least hoped I'd written) for the progression here, so it seemed silly to waste the opportunity when people can always read it in whatever sections they want.
> 
> I almost didn't do it just because this particular Robert Burns poem sounds so much more appropriate for a post War Games Two/Jamie fic, but hopefully no one'll murder me if I maybe return to it for a particular 6b wip I have in mind.
> 
> If you like that kind of music and haven't heard it, absolutely check it out, there's loads of good versions on youtube (the version I probably listen to the most is sung by the Corries, and funnily enough changes part of the lyrics I've used lol - Eddi Reader's is also a fave)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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